Caught Off Gaurd
by TapDanceSpiders
Summary: Ron asks Harry to the Yule Ball, but after a while gets tired of all the would-be suitors. So brother George comes to the rescue, and the two of them go back to the common room alone...
1. A Date to the Ball

Ron rushed into the Gryffindor common room and flopped into an armchair exhaustedly. Thankfully, Harry was the only other person there.

"Harry, do you have a date to the ball yet?"

"Er... no," Harry admitted. "Why?"

Ron sighed in relief. "Go with me?"

Harry started blushing furiously, though Ron pretended not to notice. "Er... I... okay!"

She grinned at her best friend. "Thanks, Mate."

"Er, yeah. Any time."

"You have no _idea _how much trouble I've been having with some of the guys lately," she complained. "They don't seem to understand that _I'm not interested! _Honestly,"—she looked at Harry—"do guys even think with their _brains?_"

"Er..." Harry blushed even more.

"Just proves my point," she muttered. Two years ago, Harry would have found her comment funny and come up with some witty reply, but in their third year, he had started making a bigger deal out of the fact that she and Hermione were girls and he was not. Now, talking to him had become just plain awkward.

Harry was still her best friend in the world, of course, but Ron wished that he would stop being so weird about the whole thing. They had fought spiders together in the Forbidden Forest! She had driven a flying car to get them to Hogwarts and saved him when he nearly fell out because that bloody house elf had been trying to keep Harry away. So why was he acting like she was some sort of delicate flower?

She sighed. "I'm going to bed. Good night, Harry."

"Good night," he called after her as she walked up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

When she entered the fourth years' dorm room, she was surprised to fine Hermione still awake.

"Hi, Ron," Hermione said calmly as Ron collapsed onto her bed on top of some old clothes she hadn't bothered to put away. "What's the count for today?"

Ron tried to remember. "Just three actually. Seamus, Justin, and... Theodore Nott." She made a face.

"Isn't he a Slytherin, though?" Hermioine asked, amazed.

"Yeah! Can you believe it?"

Hermione whistled. "Turned them all down, then?"

"What do you think? Of course I did! I actually asked Harry just now so they'll stop bothering me. So, I've got a date."

"Ooh, Harry Potter!" Hermione said in tones of mock awe. "You're so _lucky!_"

Ron shot her a dirty look. "Sod off! You know I don't fancy him."

"I know," she laughed. "Speaking of which, who _do _you fancy?"

Ron shrugged, trying to control her pounding heart and keep her voice steady. "Never really thought about it. No one, I guess. I'm not really interested in dating right now... What about you?"

Hermione blushed. "You have to promise not to tell."

Ron rolled her eyes. "I promise."

"Well... it's, er... Viktor Krum."

Ron's eyes lit up. "Krum? He's a genius! More than an athlete, he's an artist! He's amazing!" She paused. "I approve of your choice."

"But that's not all. He's-he's asked me to go to the ball with him!" Hermione squealed excitedly.

"He... _what?_" Ron stared at her. "Hermione, are you serious?"

Her friend nodded happily.

"That's brilliant!"

Hermione smiled. "Thanks, Ron."

"Er... Hermione?"

"What do you want?"

Ron grinned. Hermione knew her too well. "Can I borrow something of yours to wear? I'm afraid I don't have any dresses. I don't really wear them. Mum sent me this... thing, but it's awful. Do you have something I could use?"

"Sure. You can borrow anything in my trunk except the pale blue. That's what I'm wearing."

"Thanks, 'Mione," she yawned, suddenly drowsy. "I'll look tomorrow."

"Just make sure you fold everything when you're done with it."

Ron laughed. "Relax. I'm not going to mess up your perfect order."

"_Good night, _Veronica," Hermione said.

_(About this fic.. I feel like most fics involving Ron—including mine—portray him as very feminine and demure. So I decided to switch it up by making him a tomboy-ish girl. YOU MAD?)_


	2. Taken

When word got out that Ron and Harry were going to the ball together, the others finally stopped pestering her. She was taken now (a term she disliked because his made her sound like some sort of dry goods, but _anything _to make them stop) and that meant that they had to stop asking her.

Harry seemed to be moving about with a bit of a strut. Ron Weasley had asked him to the Yule Ball. She wanted to smack him. He knew perfectly well why she had asked him, and it was working great except for his stupid cocky attitude. It was as if he was going to the ball with and idealized figment of him imagination instead of the girl who had called him her best friend for three and a half years.

This was why Harry was one of the only guys she talked to anymore. Because all the others who would otherwise have been worth talking to were even worse than Harry about this one point. They all saw her as a _girl _rather than as a _person._

Even her brothers did it, though not in the same way. All her life she had been the youngest child of 6, the only girl. She had learned to be like them, and she was quite comfortable being what Lavender and Parvati would call a 'tomboy'.

But recently, even her brothers had been excluding her on the pretext of her gender. Except Percy, of course, who was girlier than _she _was. But then, Percy didn't fall under the category of 'would otherwise have been worth talking to', the prat.

And since Bill and Charlie had long since left Hogwarts, the only male students she ever spoke to were Harry and the twins. She had been growing closer to Hermione, whom she had originally thought a prat like Percy.

She dug through Hermione's trunk impatiently. Didn't the girl have any dresses that weren't red or orange? Ron wasn't big on fashion, but even _she _could tell that those would look dreadful with her hair. She found the light blue dress Hermione had mentioned. Pretty. It would look great on 'Mione. She kept looking.

There weren't a whole lot of dresses, and none of them stood out to her. She sighed and put them back.

As she moved to close the trunk, her ring, the one piece of jewelry she wore, slipped off and fell in among the clothing, disappearing into the folds. She swore loudly and started removing everything from the trunk to find it again. George had given her that ring for her thirteenth birthday, and she wore it at all times on her right index finger.

She removed item after item from the trunk with no sign of it. Finally she gave up on trying to be organized about this and pulled out her wand. "_Accio ring!_"

The ring shot up out of the trunk, snagging briefly on a bit of navy blue material and unfolding it slightly. She caught it and put it back on her finger happily.

Pulling out the blue thing to re-fold it, she discovered it was a dress she had overlooked. Something about it was entirely different from the rest of Hermione's wardrobe. Different… but not in a bad way. She stuffed it into her own trunk to try on later.

Piling all of Hermione's things back into the trunk, she slammed it shut, gathered up her books and raced down the stairs, only having them move on her twice. Considering her usual luck, that wasn't bad.

Finally, she arrived at the dungeons and located the Potions classroom. She shouldn't have looked for the dress right before class, but she had kept forgetting over the past few days and the ball was tonight! She sprinted up the aisle and slid into her seat next to Harry. "Am I late?" she whispered breathlessly.

"Well, well. Miss Weasley, late as usual," said an oily voice behind her.

Ron jumped and turned to see Professor Snape.


	3. Snow

Potions class was hell. Snape was even harsher than usual, and Ron would have detention the next day. Thankfully, even he couldn't give detention on the day of the ball.

Sitting in class, she imagined the snow that had been falling when she had left for class. She pictured the gentle flakes falling over the campus and longed at least for a window.

Finally they were released and she, Harry, and Hermione raced back to the tower to get their coats.

"Hey, Ron," Hermione said as she pulled on her jacket, "did you ever get around to finding a dress?"

"Er… I think so. But I didn't have time to try it on." Hermione snorted, and the three left the common room, went downstairs, and left the castle.

Fred and George were having a snowball fight. "Mind if we join?" Ron asked, running up to them.

Fred looked her over. "Sure," he said somewhat reluctantly. Hermione opted to sit out, but Ron and Harry started gathering up snowballs to join the fray.

When Ron's perfectly-aimed snowball hit the back of Fred's head, he spun around, grinning, to retaliate. But when he saw her, he stopped and threw at George instead. She frowned.

After this had happened several times with all three of the boys, Ron was getting frustrated. Couldn't they give it a rest? Taking careful aim, she hurled a snowball at George, generally the least excluding of the three. It hit the back of his neck and dripped down inside his coat. She was him react, trying to get rid of the chilling ice to no avail.

"Okay, that's it!" she heard him exclaim. He spun around and chucked a snowball at her.

Shrieking with joy, she dodged it and threw one at Harry. Soon all four of them were sending snowballs flying across the courtyard.

Hermione announced she was going inside, and Ron stopped running to give her an odd look. "But the ball—HEY!" she yelled as a snowball hit the side of her head. "But the ball doesn't start for three hours!"

Hermione nodded. "I know. I'm going to get ready." She eyed Ron's crazy hair and the snowflakes settled in it. "You should, too."

"I've got three hours!"

"Your choice," Hermione said with a shrug.

"But what are you going to do in three hours?" Ron asked, incredulous. How could _anyone_, much less Hermione, stand putting on makeup for three long hours?

"You'll see," Hermione replied, eyes twinkling.

"Whatever you say," Ron muttered as she left, and then turned back to the snowball fight.

For another hour, the four flung snow at each other until they were exhausted, when they trooped back to the common room and sat down by the fire.

"We should probably get dressed," Harry commented, and somehow she knew the remark was directed at her.

"Fine," she sighed, standing up resignedly, and went up to the girls' dorms.

She took a quick shower and, fetching her wand, muttered a spell to instantly dry her long red curls. Now to see about that dress.

She pulled the dress out of her trunk. If this didn't fit, she would have to wear the one Mum had sent. She shuddered at the thought of the disgusting, musty brown thing with the battered lace at the neck and wrists. Not exactly becoming.

Crossing her fingers, she slipped the blue dress over her head. It seemed to fit alright, considering the difference in build between her and Hermione. That was surprising.

She walked over to the mirror to take a look. Oh, no. This would never do.


	4. The Dress

Ron stared at her reflection. No. No, no, no. Why did Hermione even _own _something like this? She looked like a prostitute!

And yet… something about the dress appealed to her somehow. The back was open nearly to her waist and the neck was cut _much _too low for her liking—an edge of her bra showed over it—and she felt as if the narrow straps would slip off her shoulders at any minute. But something about it… the length was decent, at least, and the skirt—she gave it an experimental twirl—the skirt flared out nicely when she spun.

Although the color _accented _her hair, it didn't clash, and after all, her alternative was the brown thing that smelled like her Great Aunt Tessie. She decided to go with Hermione's dress.

Fumbling behind her back with the black sash, she noticed Fay walk in. "Fay!" she said, relieved. "Can you tie this?"

Fay looked startled to see Ron in a dress; it was the first time she had ever worn one. Or maybe it was the dress itself that surprised her. Either way, she obliged and tied the sash for Ron.

"Thanks," Ron muttered. She raked a comb through her unruly hair and hoped that would suffice. She detested styling it.

"No problem. Did you want to borrow any makeup?" Fay asked, correctly assuming that Ron owned none.

She shook her head. "Nah, I hate the stuff."

Fay did _not _seem surprised by this, though she did look a little envious. "You're lucky you don't need it."

Ron shrugged. "I guess."

"Well, let me know if you need anything," Fay told her shortly.

She jammed a black headband Hermione had given her once onto her head and really looked at herself in the mirror.

She stared at her reflection. Was _that _what she looked like? She never really bothered to check before. No wonder Harry and the others couldn't just forget that she wasn't a guy. Merlin, she looked so girly it was disgusting! She turned away and left the dorm.

She started down the stone staircase, which was quite cold under her bare feet… Her bare feet… "Bloody hell!" She had forgotten shoes!

She ran back to the dorm room, hoping Hermione wouldn't mind Ron borrowing some shoes, as she had no appropriate ones of her own. Speaking of Hermione, where was she?

Ron dug through the trunk for the third time that day. Finally, she found something she could use with no ridiculous heels or anything: a simple pair of black flats. With a quick spell to adjust the size, she put them on.

It was nearly time for the ball. Had she really spent that long getting ready? She ran back downstairs, but not before readjusting her bra so that it no longer showed.

The common room was deserted. The others must have gone to the entrance hall to find their dates. Ron decided to follow their lead. She couldn't be late as she and Harry were starting the dancing with the other champions.

Upon arriving at the entrance hall, she looked around for Harry. He was standing across the room with his back to her, scanning the crowd for… her?

She pushed past the students blocking her way, receiving numerous stairs. Finally, she saw Harry, still facing in the other direction. "Hey, Mate," she said, walking up next to him.

He jumped about a foot, making her laugh, and whirled around to see her. "Er… R-ron!" he stammered, turning pink. "Y-you look… nice…!"

Ron rolled her eyes. "Shut up." Harry blushed even more. "Come on!" she hissed, grabbing his arm and leading him to the other champions. "We have to get in line!"

"Er… right," he murmured, following her dazedly.

Ron spotted a pretty girl wearing Hermione's periwinkle blue dress and gaped. So… that was what she had done with her three hours, then?

Hermione looked at her and smiled. Ron snapped out of it and grinned back. Her friend looked beautiful.


	5. Yule Ball

Ron's feet were aching by the time Dean asked her to dance. She hadn't had a chance to sit down all evening. With a sigh, she accepted and allowed herself to be guided through the familiar motions. Again.

After a few minutes, Dean turned his head in surprise. Someone had tapped his shoulder to cut in. He nodded and walked away, with another nod directed at Ron, who groaned inwardly and looked to see who she would have to dance with next.

She brightened upon seeing her brother George, who offered his arm in a mock display of courtesy. She took it gratefully, and he let her outside. They sat down on a bench in the courtyard, and she tiredly rested her head on his shoulder. "Thanks for that."

"No problem, Ronnie," he said, putting his arm around her. "You looked tired."

"Yeah," she mumbled, and looked up to find him staring at her. "What?"

"You look nice," he said simply.

Ron scoffed. "So I'm told."

"No, really. Although," he said in his best stern older brother voice, "that dress is _quite _low cut. I don't like my sister wearing that around school."

She stuck out her tongue at George. Well, at least he was straightforward enough to just say it. "_Sorry, _George. I don't exactly own any dresses, you know. I borrowed this one from Hermione."

His eyes widened. "That's _Hermione's?_"

"I've never seen her wear it," Ron admitted. "It was in the bottom of her trunk. I think it must have been a gift or something…"

"Probably from someone who doesn't know her very well. I can never see her wearing that." His eyes were twinkling slightly now. "But it looks quite good on _you, _Ronnie."

She hit him, laughing. "Sod off, George!"

"Okay, okay!" he laughed, hands up in surrender. "Hey, whaddaya say we head back to the common room early? I think the ball's almost over anyway. And you'll probably be wanting to get away from all that." He indicated the crowd of people inside.

Ron grinned. "_Probably?_"

George grinned back. "Probably."

"Well then," she said, standing up, "let's go." She turned to face him and held out her hands.

He took her hands and she helped pull him to his feet. "Alright then," he smirked. They went back inside, but instead of returning to the dance they turned in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. "Shouldn't you tell your _date _you're leaving?" George asked her.

"Are you kidding? Then he'd _follow _us!"

George frowned as they walked up the staircase to the Fat Lady. "But Harry's your best mate!"

"Fortuna Major." The Fat Lady's portrait swung open and she stepped inside. "I know," she said with a sigh. "But lately he's been treating me less like a friend and more like a _girl._ All the guys have. Including you and Fred," she added, poking him in the ribs.

He grinned apologetically. "Sorry, Ronnie. It's just… you _are _a girl."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Did that stop you from turning my teddy bear into a spider when I was little?"

"That's different! You were a _kid _then. Now you're a _girl. _Now we have to be gentlemen to you."

Ron pretended to swoon. "Gentlemen!" she said, putting a hand to her breast and batting her eyes. "How could I _live _without them?"

Sensing danger, George backed away cautiously. "Ronnie, I said I'm sorry, okay?"

"Oh, no!" she cried with sudden inspiration, running after him and throwing her arms around his neck. "Don't be sorry," she breathed. "Thank you _so _much for excluding me and making my life miserable so I could feel like a _lady!_" By the end of the sentence, her face was mere centimeters from his.

He was squirming uncomfortably, not wanting to be rude and push her off, but obviously _not _wanting her there. She persisted. "Okay, I'll stop!" he said at last. "I'm sorry!"

"Promise?" she asked, serious again but not backing off, just in case he needed more persuasion.

"I promise! Now can you let me go?"

Ron grinned. "Love you, Georgie," she said, standing on her toes to kiss her brother on the cheek. Then she turned and ran up the stairs to the girls' dorms, ignoring his shouts.

Suddenly, the stairs flattened beneath her feet and she slid back down, landing in a heap at the bottom… on top of George.


	6. Caught Off Gaurd

Sitting up but not bothering to get off his back, she pushed a few strands of long red hair out of her face. "George, you idiot, you can't follow me upstairs! They cast _Glisseo_ on it, you stupid git!"

"_Sorry,_" George muttered under her. "Can you get off?"

"Fine," Ron said grudgingly, and stood up to allow George up off the floor.

"What was _that _all about?" he asked, all traces of humor gone.

"When a boy tries to get into the girls' dorms, the staircase becomes a slide. You know that," she told him.

"No, I know," he said. "I made it do that on purpose. What I meant was… why were you acting like that?"

"Oh." She laughed. "I was just messing with you. I knew you'd promise anything if I freaked you out enough," she grinned.

George's eyes twinkled again now. "I wonder if that works on you, too."

And the space between them was gone. His arms were around her, and he had bent his head down so that the distance between their lips was minimal. Though she usually had such good self-control, she was caught off guard and found herself crossing it.

They both froze for a fraction of a second before Ron moved to pull away. Before she could escape and lose contact with his lips, she felt his arms tighten around her.

Her eyes widened in shock. Why wouldn't George let her go? She had already embarrassed herself enough! Now he was forcing her to stay when all she wanted to do was run sobbing to the dormitory and collapse on her bed. Why had she done that? Of all the stupid, reckless—!

But… he was… kissing her back… He was..!

Ron threw her arms around her brother's neck again and kissed him enthusiastically, trying to control her grin as she did so. She felt positively giddy. Never had she expected…! She wondered how this had happened and why she had never realized. But… there would be time for that kind of talk later. For the moment, she had the object of her heart's desire in her grasp.

She broke out of the kiss and stared at George. He was staring right back. "So maybe I lied," she said breathlessly. "I wasn't just trying to scare you."

George laughed. "Good thing, too, or I would be feeling like an idiot about now."

"You _are _an idiot," she muttered, quickly kissing his nose before undoing his tie. Somehow his jacked had already found the floor.

He seemed surprised by, though not entirely opposed to, her forwardness. His hands had tangled themselves in her hair, and his lips returned to hers, the heat flaring in her as his tongue begged for entrance. She willingly gave it.

Ron's fingers, seemingly with a mind of their own, began working at the buttons on his shirt. She didn't know why it was so important that she get them undone, but some inexorable force was compelling her. Soon the front of his shirt was open, and her hands rested on his chest.

He had a nice body, she noted with surprise. _Very _nice. She had seen her brothers shirtless before, of course, but never at this proximity. He had an athletic build, but then he would have to, playing Quidditch as he did. As a Beater, his _arms _must be… She looked at the long sleeves in annoyance. Well, she would be able to explore to her heart's content in time.

"Do you think I could make the team next year?" she asked, lips against his neck.

"_What?_" He sounded shocked that she wanted to talk.

"The Quidditch team," she persisted. "I think I'd like to try for Keeper now Wood's graduating."

George's grip on her hair tightened as she kissed her way up his jaw line to the sweet spot behind his ear. "Er… yeah. Sounds good. Just, Ronnie…" He took a sharp breath when her teeth scraped gently across his left earlobe and started to pull away. "Merlin, don't _stop!_"

A twinkle appeared in her eyes, and she pulled free anyway. She shoved him onto the couch and stood over him, toying with his hair and smirking down at him. He smirked back and caught her around the waist, pulling her up on top of him.

Ron grinned and drummed her fingers on George's chest. There he was, helpless beneath her, watching her with those gorgeous eyes of his. How could she resist? She claimed his lips again, wanting to mark him forever as hers.

Her heart raced and her brain shut down when she felt his hand on her thigh, moving dangerously close to her arse underneath the blue dress. His touch sent shivers down her spine; her body was reacting more than she'd like to admit. His was, too, she noticed with a smirk. And that hand was getting tantalizingly close…

"Screw it," she muttered against his lips.

"As you wish," George said, eyebrows raised.

She made a face at him and reached for his zipper—then froze. Were those… _voices _outside the portrait hole?

_(Erm… I was alternately writing this scene and taking notes on arthropods. So don't judge.)_


	7. Bad Timing?

George froze as well. The voices were growing more distinct.

Ron scrambled off him and made a desperate attempt to smooth her wild hair while George hastily re-buttoned his shirt and reached for his tie. Why wouldn't those blasted straps on her dress stay up? They had stayed up all night until now!

Finally she got them to stay and dove for an armchair as the portrait of the Fat Lady swung outward. She closed her eyes and pretended to sleep. Why had she been so stupid? In the bloody _common room _of all places!

She now recognized the voices as Seamus and Lavender. He was saying good night, and then her footsteps were retreating up the stairs to the girls' dormitories.

"Oh! Fred!" Seamus must have noticed her brother for the first time.

"Oh! Dean!"

Seamus fell silent momentarily, then spoke, sounding confused. "But I'm… oh. Sorry, George."

"It's fine," George sighed.

"Ronnie's here, too!" Seamus said in a surprised tone, making Ron twitch involuntarily. _No one _was allowed to call her that except her brothers. Not even Harry.

"We came back early because she was tired," George said flatly.

"She's cute when she sleeps." Seamus apparently didn't know when he wasn't wanted. Ron managed to keep her expression peaceful despite her growing irritation.

George laughed. "I guess she is."

Ron stopped listening to the conversation. This was going nowhere. Instead, she thought back over what had happened with George. Merlin.

So she now knew that he fancied her: that was something. And then… bloody hell, what had she been _doing?_

A tiny voice in her head answered her. 'George,' it said simply. She pushed the thought away. It wasn't strictly true, anyway. It _would _have been, but… it wasn't. She was actually thankful that Seamus and Lavender had walked in before she did something even more stupid.

What was wrong with her tonight? She always had perfect self-control and had never let on that she fancied him. But the moment he kissed her back, she had thrown all that away and acted like a total slut. How stupid could you get? Nearly shagging her own brother in the Gryffindor common room! Merlin, she was an idiot!

And what would George think? Would he think Ron was normally like that with guys? Would he think that she was a slut? That she slept around or anything like that?

Or would he understand that it was only _him? _Would he recognize that only _he _could drive her wild? Only _he _could get this uncontrollable reaction from just one kiss. Would he know that no matter who she had dated in the past, only _he _was on her mind? Would he ever see that she was madly in love with _him, _and _him _alone…?

Too confused by her own thoughts, Ron let her mind go blank.

* * *

><p>She awoke some time later. After she blinked a few times, the common room came back into focus. It was crowded with Gryffindors returning from the ball. Their noise must have been what woke her up.<p>

She was sprawled carelessly—though, thankfully, not indecently—over one chair, and some fifth and sixth years occupied the rest. She looked about for George.

He was standing behind her chair with his hand on the back, talking to Fred and Lee. Ron wondered briefly whether he had been there the whole time watching over her and smiled at the thought.

He seemed to sense her watching him, for he looked down at her and their eyes met. George looked away quickly, blushing and removing his hand from the chair.

She got up to find Harry and Hermione, brushing lightly against him as she passed. They were in a corner, talking to Seamus, who noticed her approaching and left quickly.

"Ron!" harry said, the annoyance in his voice not entirely hidden. "Why did you leave?"

"I was tired," she told him apologetically. "So George and I came back early."

Harry relaxed visibly upon hearing George's name. "Oh. You were with your brother." Little did he know.

Ron felt somewhat uncomfortable. "Yeah. Sorry. Anyway, I'm going to go to bed." It didn't look like she'd get a chance to talk to George again tonight. It would have to wait.


	8. Only Me

Ron was sure she would bore a hole in George's head from staring so hard. Why wouldn't the git look up?

_Finally _he looked in her direction, and she jerked her head toward the door. He nodded, and they both stood up from the Gryffindor table.

They didn't speak until they were standing under the beech tree by the lake. Then Ron turned to her brother. "Look, about last night… I'm sorry."

George stared. "You're… _sorry?_"

Ron nodded. "I shouldn't have done that. I… I don't know what came over me."

"You… regret it, then?"

"I… Yes, I regret it. I wouldn't usually do something like that and I'm sorry if it made you uncomfortable."

He just looked at her for a moment. "Oh."

She was puzzled. "What's wrong?"

"Er…" He sighed. "You may as well know. I don't regret a thing."

Ron blinked. Why was he…? It hit her. "George, you don't think I regret _all _of it, do you?"

He looked confused. "Isn't that what you were just saying?"

That was it. She had phrased the apology badly. With a relieved laugh that that was all, she replied, "No! I don't regret kissing you!" Under her breath, she added, "I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Whether he heard the words or not, he seemed to have gotten the general idea of the muttered sentence. He kissed her quickly, but pulled away to ask another question. "Then what do you regret?"

She frowned. "The part after we kissed. I'm… not usually like that. And I don't want you thinking I am."

George laughed now. "If it makes you feel any better, I'm not usually like that either. It was just you and…"—he grinned—"that dress. Merlin, Ronnie, you should wear that more often!"

Ron grinned back. "Maybe I will. Hermione gave it to me. Apparently one of her old muggle friends gave it to her last summer and she doesn't want it."

He ruffled her hair. "Just stay away from the boys when you wear it."

"_All _the boys?" she teased.

"All but one," he said with a wink.

"True," she said ponderously. "I'm sure Harry would just _love _seeing me wear that."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't you dare."

Ron laughed and put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer until the tips of their noses were touching. "You're so cute when you're jealous."

George raised an eyebrow. "Don't do it."

She kissed his nose. "Wouldn't dream of it, Dear."

He wrapped his arms around her waist. "Can't be too careful with you, my little temptress."

Ron burst out laughing. _Temptress? _"Please. The farthest I've gone was last night with you."

Though he looked relieved, his voice was still stern. "That would have been pretty far, though, Ronnie. If it weren't for Seamus and Lavender…" He didn't have to finish the sentence.

Ron giggled. "Listen to you! You're sounding like an older brother but talking about snogging your baby sister! Pick one!"

George smiled, but said, "Ron, I'm serious. Don't you ever do any of those things with anyone else, you hear me?"

She nodded and grinned at him. "Only you."

"Only me," he agreed.


End file.
